


Angel's Tears

by hungrydean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Angst, Grace Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, Like panicky-worried, M/M, Pining Castiel, Worried Castiel, Wounded!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:32:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungrydean/pseuds/hungrydean
Summary: When Dean is heavily wounded, Cas knows that only sharing his grace will heal him. But with it comes a price.





	Angel's Tears

“Dean.” Cas dropped his angel blade without a second thought and fell to his knees next to Dean, who was trying to keep himself upright. There was a dark stain on Dean’s flannel, and it grew bigger as they watched.

“Fuck, it’s-” Dean began, panting heavily. Before he fully collapsed, Cas caught him in his arms and pulled him closer. With a worried glance to his face, Cas opened Dean’s flannel and flipped the fabric aside. Dean’s stomach was stained with blood, the wound open and wide and dirty. Cas had seen and felt many wounds, and he instantly realized the severity of this one.

“Alright, I got you.” Cas breathed and tried to hold Dean up. Sam knelt down with them and stared at the mess.

“Can you fix it?” He asked with wide eyes.

“Not in the normal way, it’d only stop the bleeding.” Cas felt Dean’s forehead— it was sweaty and warm. Dean’s eyes were on him, but they were glazy and out of focus.

“Cas…” He muttered, his eyelids slowly shutting.

“I’m here, come on, stay with me!” Cas’ blood-stained hands were shaking as he hoisted Dean up. He quickly hovered his hand over the wound. Dean gasped and his stomach clenched under the blue light heating up quickly— his hand gripping onto Castiel’s coat, legs shaking.

As it cleaned the dried blood from Dean’s skin, Cas allowed himself a few seconds to think. He already knew there was only one way to heal Dean and make absolutely sure he didn’t die. The idea of Dean dying made Cas’ mind stagger. “We… we needda get him back to the bunker, right now. I— I need to share my grace with him.”

“Can’t you do that here?” Sam’s eyebrows knitted in worry, looking from the wound to Cas’ face.

“No.” Cas didn’t blame Sam for worrying. He himself had Dean in his arms, and he felt how weak he was. When he spoke, his voice was determined. “It’ll be… very intense for him, he needs to be more comfortable.”

He knew the procedure for angels was exhausting, for humans who weren’t  built for this kind of power, it would be… overwhelming, to say the least. If it was anyone else, Castiel might have done it right here, but Dean… Dean should be on soft clean sheets in a safe and warm environment. As soon as the bleeding had stopped, Cas pulled his hand away. Dean didn’t stop gripping onto his coat.

“Alright,” Sam got up and helped Cas to get Dean off the ground. Dean didn’t even try to stand and let Cas carry him willingly. Part of Cas was glad Dean let it happen; part of him knew this meant Dean was far off from being his own, healthy self. He carried Dean alone. Dean’s head had rolled to the side and was on Cas’ shoulder. His breathing, a bit more regular than before, was warm against Cas’ neck.

“Cas…” Dean managed again.

“It’s okay, Dean, save your strength,” Cas replied. “You’ll be okay.”

“You g’nna give your… grace.” Dean muttered. “… Don’t.”

“Only half of it, I’ll be fine.” They’d reached the car. Sam helped Cas and Dean get in the back then got to the driver’s seat himself.

Dean sat slumped against Castiel, a bit of blood smeared over the side of his face. Castiel looked at the closed eyes, the lashes long and dark, the freckles on the dry, pale skin, the rough, short scruff, the small bump in his nose. Castiel had never seen him from this close before, and he couldn’t help but smile, though weakly. He looked at Dean’s cracked lips which were slightly parted.

“Sam, do you have water?” Cas asked softly. Keeping his eyes on the road, Sam reached for a bottle. “Thank you.” Cas screwed the lid off with one hand, the other steadying Dean. “Drink.” He wasn’t sure if Dean could hear him, but when Cas put the bottle to Dean’s lips, he eagerly took a few sips. He sighed once he was finished.

“Thanks,” he muttered, his mouth twitching.

“Don’t worry,” Cas said as he used some of the water to cool Dean’s sweaty forehead. “We’re almost there.”

Once they arrived, Sam hurried to help them out. Though Dean had rested, he still couldn’t stand, so Cas took him in his arms again and followed Sam into the bunker. In Dean’s room, Sam pulled the bedsheets straight and Cas lay Dean down. Dean groaned when his body touched the soft sheets and he had to reposition himself so they could get rid of his jacket and dirty flannel.

“Should I-” Sam gestured to the door.

“Wait until I’m— I want to be sure he’s okay.” Sam handed Cas his angel blade. Before he cut his arm, Cas focused on Dean.

“This- this will be intense.” He began and heard his own voice shaking. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He didn’t dare look at Sam before he put the knife to the flesh of his own arm. He brought the cut to Dean’s wound and let the whirl of blue silver glide through the open flesh. Cas muttered Enochian under his breath as the grace disappeared- for a moment, Dean was quiet, then he hissed and tried to find grip on something.

“ _Fuck_ -”

Cas caught him just in time. Dean was shaking uncontrollably and suddenly he screamed out in pain. It startled both Cas and Sam, but Dean’s eyes got wide with horror of the things only he could see. Sam reached forward but couldn’t do anything, and all Cas could do was to hold Dean steady. Dean’s words didn’t make any sense as he whimpered, tears rolled down his cheeks and his entire body tensed up against Cas. Somehow, he found a way to hold onto Cas, bury his nails into his back and hold himself up against the angel as if that would shield him from everything. The painful, terrified screaming stopped as soon as it had come, but Cas knew it wasn’t over. Dean groaned softly against Cas’ shoulder. Cas felt his pulse quicken noticeably under his fingertips. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he whispered again, but he wasn’t sure if Dean could hear him.

_Dean. One of the first times Cas had seen him on earth— tired and dirty and most of all confused. He gulped down water stolen from an empty gas station. Cas couldn’t help but look at him and wonder how the satisfaction would feel after being so thirsty. Dean closed his eyes and sighed. Cas thought humanity was beautiful._

_A few months later, Dean smiling at something Sam had said. The wrinkles around his young eyes weren’t from worry or fear. It was unashamed joy followed by a laugh that echoed through the room and rung in Castiel’s ears. He didn’t know what to do with the need he suddenly felt to hear it again, but his eyes stayed focused on Dean. They often did._

_Dean in the rain, hair sticking to his forehead. He shook it out but it didn’t help, and he muttered a “Jesus”, then looked at Cas and grinned when he saw him stare. Grinned at him. Cas’ body felt warm and tingly even though the rain had soaked them both._

_Dean reading lore in full concentration. He licked his lips and scratched his stubble, the sound rough in the silence. Castiel kept watching him flip a page, frown, mutter. Dean was unaware of Castiel’s gaze upon him, so Castiel kept watching the seemingly uninteresting, but to Cas mesmerizing scene before him._

_Dean dead on the floor, and Cas in_ panic _next to him; blood on his hands and Naomi behind them, telling him to get up and try again. Castiel did indeed jump, but to attack her— she simply held him back with one move of her hand. “Let’s try again,” she said. Another body of Dean lay on the floor, the life slowly fading from his eyes as Cas cried, fell on his knees next to him and begged Naomi to make it stop, to make all of it stop. He’d do anything but this, anything she wanted if only this could stop._

_The real Dean, his face covered in blood. He was gripping onto Cas and begged him to listen and said that he needed him. Cas’ mind, geared for months onto killing Dean, crumbled. He dropped the knife._

_Dean, sitting at the table drinking a beer with Sam. The two of them were smiling at a television show Cas didn’t understand. Dean took a sip of his beer and a bit trickled down his chin. He wiped it away, thinking no one had seen. But Cas had, of_ course _he had— and Cas smiled to himself._

_Dean hugging him, several times. In Purgatory, when they found each other again, another time after they hadn’t seen each other in months, once more when Dean turned out to be alive, right in front of Mary. Those hugs, they were overwhelming. Dean’s warmth so close to him and his heartbeat, real and alive and human pounding against Cas’ chest. He didn’t ever want to let go, he wanted to stay there and bury his face into Dean’s neck. He wanted to tell him, tell him how he felt and tell him that he just wanted Dean to be happy; and that Cas wanted to be part of that. But he had to let go, and fight the words he desperately wanted to confess. Dean’s smiles fixed some of the pain._

_Dean and Sam interrogating a few people. There were officers and other people walking around, but Cas only looked at Dean. Everything else went vague and blurry, everything but Dean. He nodded and said something, scribbling on his notepad. Castiel didn’t remember what they were doing here. Dean was beautiful._

Suddenly, they were back in the room and Dean was still holding onto Cas. He was awake, eyes wide and gasping for air. Cas let go of him so he had space but stayed close. Dean’s wound was gone, except for a small scar. His face was still sweaty and wet from tears. Cas felt tears himself. He couldn’t help it, the memories he had just shared with Dean had been too much. Knowing Dean knew now made him want to disappear.

“What—” Sam began.

“Cas.” Dean looked at him, still panting. He looked at Sam for a moment, maybe to check if he had seen and could confirm. Cas looked away. “Cas, are you… Did you—”

“He’s okay,” Cas said to Sam, avoiding eye contact. He wiped at his eyes. “It’s fixed.” He himself felt weak with half of his grace, but that was the least of his concerns now. Dean kept staring at him in confusion and probably disgust.

“I’ll… go.” Sam decided. “Are you sure?”

Cas nodded. “Thank you.”

Sam left the room and closed the door with a soft thud. They were alone.

“Cas…”

He didn’t answer.

“Are you alright?” He accidentally looked into Dean’s eyes.

“Yeah.” Dean reached for his stomach, which was clean from blood. “But what… what happened?”

“Sharing my grace with you means… sharing part of myself, so you get to feel and see things I feel and see. It’s part of the healing process. The things most important to me are the most effective.”

Dean was thinking. His breath was slowly calming down, and he seemed less pale. He was quickly gaining back the energy and life he’d lost together with the blood.

“But—” he said after a moment. “It was just… me.”

“I needed you to heal quickly, so I used my most special memories.” Cas averted his eyes once more. Dean would understand what it meant if the memories hadn’t been clear enough. “I’m sorry.” He blurted. “I’m sorry I… I can’t help it. I can’t stop it. It never meant to happen.”

“Hey,” Dean’s hand wrapped around his upper arm. “Look at me.” When Cas did, he saw Dean’s face had gained all the color he’d had before, and a dark blush was coloring his cheeks. “How long?”

“Forever.”

Dean swallowed. Every moment, he could tell Cas to leave him alone and get out of the bunker, out of his life.

“Are you… in love with me?”

Cas wished Dean would stop asking for him to say it, because it only made him more embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.”

Dean sat up and tightened the grip on Cas’ arm.

“Don’t be.”

Cas’ head jerked to look at Dean, who stared back at him with wide, green eyes. “You saved me,” Dean continued, and his voice was unsteady and rough. “Hell you saved me many times, and all the time you… and you never said…”

“I couldn’t risk losing you.” Cas stared at Dean’s hands instead of his face. “But now the alternative was you dying, I’d rather have you know and send me away than– ”

Dean shut his sentence off with his lips on Cas’ lips, his hands cupping his cheeks. For a moment they both seemed to hesitate. Maybe they waited, waited for each other to approve of what was happening. Then, Dean’s finger brushed against Cas’ jaw, almost too light to feel, but it was Cas’ sign to move on. And suddenly they were kissing like it was the end of the world like this was their last chance. Dean’s lips were cool and plump and Cas leaned in— Dean pulled him close.

“Cas,” he muttered, “I’m sorry I never…”

Castiel hummed and kissed him again, he felt his eyes water but Dean grabbed his hand and squeezed it and Cas couldn’t cry, he couldn’t cry when Dean was in his arms. They looked at each other in silence, slightly out of breath.

“You need to rest,” Cas said quietly. “I’ll watch over you.”

“No,” Dean said and slowly pushed off Cas’ trenchcoat. “You needda rest too. C’mon,” He nudged at Cas’ clothes. “Take off your clothes.”

A moment later, Dean pulled Cas down on the bed next to him. It was weird, laying together, but it was a good kind of weird. Cas looked at Dean, who shifted closer. “One thing,” Dean muttered as he leaned in and, a little hesitant, pressed a kiss onto Cas’ lips. “You gonna make me coffee tomorrow.”

Cas smiled, a warm feeling spreading all over his body. “I will.”


End file.
